Brutark Meets a Druid: An Origin Story
by Catmonk
Summary: Brutark meets a new friend in his quest to be an adventurer and gladiator. Recounts his humble beginnings.


Brutark looked up from his prone position. He lay beneath a makeshift shelter of branches and leaves shielding him from a light rain. He was sore and tired, barely able to turn his head. But that wouldn't stop him from trying.

When he did he saw a young woman with slightly pointed ears sitting by a fire. With the glow of the firelight she almost looked angelic in the dying light of day. As he watched her features would blur from time to time as she appeared to meditate. Her ears became that of a wolf then back again. Then her skin became chitinous, like an insect or spider, then back again. A tail now? Brutark thought he must be dreaming. He faded to unconsciousness once more. As the delicate elf-maiden noticed him out of the corner of her eye.

Brutark awoke again to find the elf girl looking down at him.

"Oh good, you're wake… I was worried for a bit. You've been out for a few days now."

They were still in the small clearing in the woods from before. The sun shone through a thick layer of clouds, a haze settled in on the small patch of woods.

"What happened? I don't remember." Brutark searched his head but found no answers. His throat was rough and dry but did nothing to hide a thick accent.

"I had been following you for a bit." The elf looked at him with gentle eyes. "You looked lost. I was right. But when I thought you were starting to get back on track and heading out of the woods I let you go on your way. Then I found you two days later. You had gotten turned around again is seems."

She pulled out a handful of mushrooms, gray with tiny blue dots.

"I found you in a field of these nasty things. One half eaten by your side. Hungry and thirsty. Silly city boy. Never eat the ones with blue dots."

She put her hand on his forehead. "Your fever seems to have broken. I think you'll be fine."

Brutark tried to sit up but struggled. The elf girl gently pushed down on his chest forcing him to lay back down.

"You'll still need a couple days to rest so get comfortable my big friend." She smiled warmly then reached for a waterskin, placing it to his lips. "I'm Nissa."

Brutark drifted back to sleep.

A day later Brutark was sitting by the fire. Feeling unsteady but stronger. In the early hours Nissa had caught a rabbit and cooked it by the fire.

As Nissa talked to him while he was recovering he learned that she was actually a half-elf, learning the ways of the druid. He was relieved to learn he had not imagined her form shifting by the fire that night he first woke up, but had witnessed Nissa practicing her wild shape. Something she had not yet mastered. She was very comfortable in the woods and very comfortable to be around. He decided he liked her. Yes indeed. And he was grateful that she had found him when she did. And much as she looked to him like a lost puppy, he saw in her a delicate gentleness that he felt compelled to protect.

"So my big friend, you still haven't told me your name or why how you found yourself wandering aimlessly in the woods."

"My name is Brutark Hithard." He thought for a moment. "I come from Thay and aspire to fight in the arena. But with little renown or experience I'll have little luck. I'm out here to prove myself."

Nissa grinned. "Hithard? That's a bit on the nose, isn't it?"

"Or on head. Or face. I hit where needed."

Nissa's expression softened further, and chuckled. Not sure if he was kidding or was a little on the… simpler side.

"I mean your name is very unusual. Perhaps you should tell me where you are from." She blew a strand of dark hair from her eyes. It had streaks of silver that caught the light just so. A stark contrast to Brutark's blond hair, much like her small frame was a contrast to his brutish build.

He smiled lightly, looking into the fire, and began his story….

"I was an orphan. I know almost nothing of my mother and less of my father. My mother's… situation… was not meant for a child so I was given to an orphanage early. Grew up there mostly. The baby with no name. I was large even then.

I remember growing up being bigger than most of the other children. 'He's got giant blood in him' they'd say. 'He's a real brute.'

The name stuck, in a way. Of course the funny thing is that I've heard that my name is actually runt in Giant. Bru is small and tark is pup. Small-pup. The gods have a humor to be sure. Still, I had no sur… surname? Yes that is the word. No surname. Most orphans no not.

I grew up with two others orphans who became like brother and sister to me. Giana and Gort. Like you they are biracial. Human and Orc. They were small back then, their orc blood not yet caught up to their human side. I found myself often sticking up for them against the other children, orc-bloods not being looked upon favorably by many. When last I spoke to them Giana was enlisting in the militia in Thay and Gort was up to no good. They no longer need my protection but I would fight beside them without a thought.

As I got older I found myself often in fight, be it with ruffians in the Thay ghettos or with other children in the orphanage. Often with coin at stake. I was not good with learning, struggling even to learn writing or Thayan history. But I found feats of strength or conflict easy. Though I cared little for coin, and less for learning, I still struggled with my place in the world.

When I got to my teens Gort would often manage my back-alley fights. Sharing in the profit.

'Ha ha, at this rate we will retire as kings!' Gort stated after one particularly profitable day of bouts.

I hit him playfully saying 'Perhaps you should fight me for your share of the coin!'

'Ow!' he shouted, 'Easy big fella. You don't need to hit hard! We're just playing!'

Gort thought for a moment, I could see the wheels turning in his head.

'Hithard! There we go Brutark. A great stage name for the arena. Brutark Hithard. Perfect.'

Or so I recall Gort saying at the time.

Not having anything better for a name I decided to keep it. And that is how I came to my name.

He looked at Nissa as he absently poked at the fire with a log, stoking the embers.

"So that is how I came to be, as you said, wandering in the woods." He smiled. "I am grateful you found me little nymph. I am no woodsman and would have been good as dead and claimed by the gods. Give me my shield and hammer and I can fight an army of goblins but I cannot fight the forest."

Nissa regarded him for a moment. Something about his genuine nature, his innocence, was charming. Yes, she thought to herself, he needs watching over. Like the lost 'small pup' that he is.

She smiled back at him. "Perhaps you can fight the goblins for me and I'll fight the forest for you. And no more eating strange things without checking with me first by big friend." She put her hand on his shoulder, squeezing.

"Agreed little nymph." Brutark replied.

They sat by the fire for a time, enjoying the sun rise. They packed up the camp and set out looking for adventure…


End file.
